


Just Let Me Know if You Love Me

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-04
Updated: 2009-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Katie/Oliver: He hates her. He hates how she wears her hair, likes to hear about his dating disasters. Hates how they’re best friends, how she can read his mind. He hates Quidditch. But, mostly, he loves her. Hates to love her. SEQUEL TO PREVIOUS STORY.





	Just Let Me Know if You Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

_Written for an early birthday present for_ Spark your Creativity _on Fanfiction.net_.

* * *

He hates her.

He hates how she always has her hair pulled back like that. Couldn’t she tell it was distracting? Always swishing back and forth. He hates how she never wears any make-up at all. Couldn’t she put on some under eye that Alicia wears? She constantly looks half-asleep and he hates it.

He hates how she always seems to want to hear about all of his dating disasters. “How was your date wish so-and-so?” she’ll ask, smirking. Who cares? He hates her curiosity. It was just a date, a date that went horrible, and he hates that she cares. That she laughs. Everyone always says that curiosity killed the cat. He hates cats.

He hates her.

He hates how they’re best friends, always together, always talking. Hates how she knows every minor detail about him: Where he was born, his favorite Quidditch team, his weak spot. He hates how she uses the knowledge against him. Hates that he doesn’t care. She doesn’t know he adores her. And she never will, if he has a say in it.

He hates how she reads his mind. She always seems to know what he wants, when. It was like she was his mother. Or his sister. And she probably thought of him in a brotherly way. He hates the thought. Hates the thought that even though they spend every second together, she’ll always be platonic. He hates platonic. He doesn’t want platonic. He wants her.

He hates Quidditch, sometimes. It seems to cause him more harm than good. No matter how hard he tries to motivate the team, get the team to practice, no one will. Except her. But she’s different. He hates that she’s different. Why does she have to give him hope? She could ignore him and mock him. He hates giving pep talks. He hates how she loves them. But it’s not like she does because she likes him. She hates him. He’s grateful for that. But he hates pity.

He hates her.

But, yet, he can’t. He loves the way she pulls her hair back; he actually _hates_ it when she puts make-up on. It ruins her face. Her beautiful face, with that ponytail, swishing back and forth. He loves how she likes hearing about his dates. He holds a secret wish that she’s taking notes on what not to do. But he gets his hopes up. He loves the fact that they’re best friends. Best friends do it second best, lovers first. And second best is always better than third. He loves that she can read her mind. It saves a minute of talking. More time to watch her, admire her. He loves that he knows, somehow, this relationship won’t always be platonic. Maybe it’s that look she gives him sometimes. He loves that look. He actually loves Quidditch. It isn’t his main priority (she is), but he couldn’t live without it. He feels so _free_ , flying. Flying was always the one thing he could count on.

He hates the way he doesn’t hate her. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even any at all.

He loves her.


End file.
